The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1887-02-05

is countryman of yours. Stay, L have
his name somewhere.
He fumbled in his pocket for notebook,
and abstracting card, handed 1t to me
across the table. l read the name; l let
the card drop.
Good Cod" said. 'Ambrose Malet.
''Do you know him." said the doctor.
~ know the name-it may be another
man" 1 answered, in profound agitation,
''is he young-a big, loose-limbed man, with
marked features, large nose, dull brown
hair lying straight across his forehead, and
the kindest, the most genial smile imagin-
able?"
"Your description answers in every par
ticular," said the doctor, ''except, indeed,
as regards the SMILE which l have not
seen. He looks sad enough, poor fellow.
He is young, about your own age, should
think He looked at me with momen-
tary humorous CLEAN that seemed to say;
'sIn all other respects as unlike you as pos
sible. He has gray eyes and wears no
beard; on his little finger is green
signet ring. If you are friend OF his
shall be glad. I asked him to-day ii L
should send to any one, and he replied
that he had no relations and not friend
in the world that would come to him.
The tears rushed to my eyes; l could
not help it. rose, and, walking to one of
the long windows, stood with my back
turned to the room, looking out on the
moonlit garden.
Three years before, at Oxford, Ambrose
Malet had been my best friend. A lonely
man, a solitary soul, he had sought me
out through one of those contradictions
that sometimes provoke and cement the
6rmest friendships. He was little known
personally at Oxford, yet made his mark at
once as man of powers so unusual that
everything might be expected OF him. The
expectation was founded on misconcep-
tioR of his CHARACTER aud yet perhaps not:
Who shall say I? since death came at six
and twenty to solve the problem after its
own fashion. A prodigious an duntail-
ing memory, an almost incredible facility
for acquiring and assimilating knowledge,
!, we're combined with one of the strangest
and most original minds l have ever come
,$scross. lie took, without appreciable et-
!, eeeza,..- =. r.opn preucnlysnrd has to offer,
he took fheslS pte indifer-
e, Knowledge, alWay # the
'wledge that he acquired with such g. Gasic
ned all that he desired. He read for supr
RS, not as the bookworm reads, or the wine
mary student, but with prodigious, a "a
curing curiosity, an Unsuitable craving, best
il in one direction or another he reached q
final limit and faced the blank beyond, ed
such times, as learned to know, he belo
into dependency that lasted >some- take
es for days; then, rousing himself, he feve
Id start again on some other track, to acut
We at the same result. His mind, Isay, harm
one of the strangest and most original ~
ave met with; but it had no impulse said.
I ever discovered, toward original what
tiou, little even toward original re- have
oh, He had read every poem worth cont
ling in the English language, and knew Still,
of them by heart; but do not know H
he ever wrote line of poetry He lay L
Id take up some branch of science, and coulC
,ur every book on it he could find; but chan
done, he made no independent effort to in
lrd fresh discovery turned to some case
g else Some spring that moves to fessic
tical action, some link common between is on
and life, was lacking in him; his soul that
1t solitary and apart, thirsting, drink H
insatiablei only demanding necessarily after
t no man ever yet had-no, nor can down
ever until the end of time. part
e had few acquaintance at Oxford, sage
no intimate friend but myself. Some befor
s he would come to my rooms and sit wish
tly watching me as l plodded on at said.
reading. My vocation had early been "U
|; and 1 never wavered in my choice; HI
d never any idea but that of entering then,
church. Malet would sit smoking and opene
hing me in silence. "Good old he e
TX, he would presently say, with his there
affectionate smile, laying hand on glanc
shoulder as he left the ROOM Not un- brow
leptly we took long walks together; fresh
by degrees, though he spoke little of or t,
fairs, learned something Of his life. small
vas man of small independent fortune walls
me hundreds year, | think; he had frienc
citations living but paralyzed and the
ish old mother, with whom he spent A wo
Whole Of his vacations, in some remote him q
try spot, He spoke little of himself, the d
sometimes our walk would begin and throu
in almost total silence. At other times silenc
ow of conversation was almost unceas- dying
and have not yet met the man who CLOSED
ak as Malet did when the mood was count
him. would not, if could, try to The l
,duce those talks. What withered casen
scentless weeds are those that would presst
represent the radiant flowers of last difficl
$ garden? He was sometimes gay, you'll
often serious. He was no orthodox ed t
YER his unorthodoxy shocked me at which
he saw 1t, and while never hiding his and Il